Gathered at the Cross: The Roman Centurion
This is part of our Lenten midweek sermon series that will examine those who were present at the crucifixion of Jesus.
Text: Isa. 66:18-23, Micah 4:1-5, Mark 15:33-39
In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Of all the engines of empires that have ever existed, there has never been one like the legions of Rome. The legions were capable of building roads, constructing shelters, marching astounding distances in short periods of time, and, of course, excelled at killing with bloody efficiency. Their weapons were perfected to a gruesome level of detail that still shock people over two thousand years later, in spite of all the nightmares of warfare and violence that we’ve exposed ourselves to as a very deeply fallen humanity.
And at the heart of this brutal engine were the centurions. A legion was made up of 5000-6000 men. Each legion had about 6 centurions in it, which means that they were in command of about 800-1000 men each. Centurions had considerable power to command in the cohort they were in charge of. They were well-trained, well-rewarded, and well-respected for their positions, often earned in the very hard trials of combat.
But perhaps it should be amended that they were well-respected, except among some of those peoples they had helped conquer and subdue. The very same things that made them very good at their jobs—their skill at killing, their brutality, their shrewdness—were also the things that made the people they conquered resent them. This was true in Judea at the time of Jesus’ earthly ministry and crucifixion too. It was a rare thing to have an officer of the legions loved by the Hebrew people, especially in Galilee. Sometimes it took things like building a synagogue for them out of the centurion’s own personal wealth to give them favorable status, like the centurion in Capernaum. But he seemed to be the exception to the rule. The Romans would build forts overlooking Jerusalem, with towers and walls able even to peer into the inner sanctums of the temple, where no Gentile was permitted to see. The taxes gouged from Judea were spent by faraway Caesars. The Judeans would needle and test the boundaries of exactly what they could get away with. Tensions would build between the Jews and the Roman legions until the Jews rebelled one final time forty years after Jesus’ death and resurrection. It resulted in the destruction of Jerusalem and the temple there, ripping out the very heart from Israel.
And yet, this antagonism was never supposed to be Israel’s attitude. Yes, they were to be distinct from the Gentile nations. God’s command from Mount Sinai called them to as much. They were to be God’s peculiar people, as some of the old translations capture it. They were to live differently than the Gentiles, their entire distinctive life and clothing and diet and structure of their nation was supposed to reflect the marvelous work that God was accomplishing in the world. Israel was to be different because they were called to be unique, living images of lives lived in God’s Word. They were to be different, but they were never to look down upon the Gentiles. For God had His plan concerning them too. “The time is coming,” declared the Lord, “to gather all nations and tongues. And they shall come and see my glory…I will send survivors to the nations…that have not heard my fame or seen my glory. And they shall declare my glory among the nations.” And then, in an even more shocking turn: “And they shall bring in all your brothers from all the nations as an offering to the Lord”—Gentiles from every nation now called brothers of the children of Abraham, offered to the Lord as clean and worthy of being set aside for His purpose. And what purpose would that be? “And some of them also I will take for priests and Levites, says the Lord.” They would be called to serve the Lord in His presence, where previously only one tribe of those genetically descended from Abraham could serve.
And if that was too vague, or if there were those scribes and teachers of the Law who could find an interpretation around it, other prophets testified the same. We heard what was revealed by the Lord to the prophet Micah: “It shall come to pass in the latter days that the mountain of the house of the Lord shall be established as the highest of the mountains, and it shall be lifted up above the hills; and peoples shall flow to it, and many Gentiles”—most of our translations say “nations,” but in Hebrew “nations” and “Gentiles” is the same word—“many Gentiles shall come, saying, ‘Come let us go up to the mountain of the Lord, to the house of the God of Jacob, that he may teach us his ways and that we may walk in his paths.’” Israel was always to be ready and expecting those latter days when the Gentiles would confess the only true God, when they would go up His holy hill together and be claimed by the Lord as His own people.
As we draw near the end of this Lenten season, we can’t help but also think of the end of all things. For as we know, it’s the crucifixion of Jesus that begins the end times that we are now living in. So this drawing in of the Gentiles, the river flowing up God’s holy mountain, is exemplified in the ministry of Jesus. The Son of God was sent to live among the Israelites, born a Jew, lived in Judea, worshiped in the temple and lived a distinctive life perfectly according to the Law of Moses. Yet we see Him saving not only Jews, but also Gentiles. He heals Samaritans. He rescues Roman children. And now, at the cross, we are called to see and hear a Gentile—a Roman enemy, no less—make a clear and beautiful confession at the moment of Jesus’ saving death: “Truly this man was the Son of God!”
Most, if not all of us here tonight are descended from Gentiles. From Jesus’ ministry, through the Apostles He sent after, the prophecies of bringing in Gentile outsiders to God’s covenant of grace, mercy, and peace has been fulfilled. It’s still being fulfilled. So we’re called to see, to confess the truth of who Jesus is: the Son of God, crucified as the only innocent one in the place of the guilty.
Yes, as the Church, God’s people are called to live differently than the world. We will worship differently than the world. But we are called not to despise others. You have been brought into God’s good graces just as much as the centurion at Jesus’ cross was. He had no right to it, but that faith, that belief and recognition of what was happening for him, was given to him as a gift. It’s a gift for you too. It’s a gift for all to whom God gives it. So we make that glad confession. We rejoice in His truth. We stand in awe at the foot of the cross, gathered to stand there with holy saints and redeemed sinners, with prophets and patriarchs, with the family and disciples of our Lord, with Jews, Gentiles, and everyone in between. For we are one of them. We’re left standing with this cloud of witnesses, marveling at what our God has accomplished at the cross for the salvation of all mankind. We see the salvation of the world drawing near as we approach Holy Week. We see and we confess, “Truly this man is the Son of God.” In the name of Jesus, the Crucified One. Amen.
